We All Fall Down
by CIAlias
Summary: Because we all fall down eventually. . .
1. Default Chapter

Author: CIAlias

Disclaimer: Alas, Alias does not belong to me, nor do the characters in this story, etc., etc.

A/N: Okay, well this isn't my first fan fic, but it's the first one I'm posting, due to the prodding of some people. Anyway, I don't think it's anything good, but it's been sitting in my computer for god knows how long. Well, let me know what you think, positive or negative! And this was written before we knew about Lazarey really being a live. Should give you a good idea how old this is ;)

We All Fall Down

One of her better memories of her mom was when she was around 5 years old. It was a Saturday afternoon spent in the park, the sun warming the skin of children playing and adults reading, the wind caressing each face. Her father had been called into work so he couldn't make it for the family's play date. Not that he'd always been the gruff, alienated man he is today. No, only since her mother had died and crushed his soul. She'd been a little upset, at least as upset as a five-year old could be when the father she admires and rarely sees can't spare a few moments for her.

Her mother though, had sensed her gloom and told her, i "_Why don't I teach you a song?" _i She'd readily agreed, a smile bursting out from the shadows. She loved when her mother taught her songs, some had been Russian and some English. Even though she was a beginner at speaking, she always tried her hardest to wrap her tongue around the syllables to make the words come out right. Her mother grabbed her hands and pulled her upwards, saying cheerfully, _"Are you ready?" _After nodding vigorously, her mother keeps hold of Sydney's little hands and gently twirls the two of them about. 

"_Ring around the rosies, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down."_ And with that she pulled Sydney to the ground and into her lap, hugging her little girl gently. Her laughter rings out in the air, and the disappointment of her father is forgotten. _"Ready to try?" _Her mother asked. Sydney nods again, jumping up, still holding her mother's hands. She furrows her brown as she tries to sing the song perfectly. _ "Rwing around the rosies, a pawket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!"_ She flops down at the end of it, and beams up at her mother. "_Like that?_" She asked. "_Exactly like that,"_ Her mom answered.

A thought occurred to Sydney as her mom pulled her back into her lap. _"Mamma? Why do we all fall down?"_ She asked sweetly, gazing up at her mother with adoration. _"Because we can't stay standing forever, can we?"_ Her mother answers after hesitating. She grabs Sydney, pinning her to the ground, and starts to tickle her. _"We're going to make Daddy so jealous he didn't come,"_ She'd told her daughter, smiling blissfully as she listens to the delighted squeals of protest.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Now, more than twenty-five years later, she sat at home, wrapped in a blanket, pondering that same question. Taking a sip of the Merlot in her glass, she stares into the hearth, lit so brightly by the fire. The dancing flames mesmerized her, soothing her mind and the pain that only death and loss can bring. Her house was eerily quiet, but that is to be expected with Francie dead and Will long gone from her life. This didn't even feel like home, all her possessions have been replaced with new ones, all her memories have been burned to ruins like her home.

Funny, isn't it? The way she can elude fate's grasp and think she's gotten away with it, only to find its hand wide open, waiting on the other side of the door to snatch her into the darkness and squeeze the life out of her. So what does she do if she's escaped it's hold once more? What then? When all she has to live on, are the mere memories of what she used to have? And even then, none of them are solid. There's nothing left to hold onto and make sure she hasn't been sucked into another world, another time. There's nothing to give a reminder that there was a time she was actually happy.

She sighs, hanging her head, wondering just how much more of this she can take. The heartache and pain. . . sometimes it just seems like too much, she can't handle it all. All she wants is to go back in time and freeze every perfect moment, take a picture of it, or even better, stay in that moment. She wishes she could have those two years back from her life. But she knows you can't change the past, no matter how hard you try. What's done is done, and there's no altering the outcome. Still, she can wish, can't she?

And there are so many things she wishes for . . . She wants her best friend back. She wants her best friend back, running the restaurant she'd worked so hard to get off the ground, She doesn't want to live knowing that Francie's death was her fault. She wants Will back. She wants him to be working as a reporter again, doing what he loved so much, doing what made him happy, no matter how much he could deny it. She doesn't want to live knowing his misery of living in hiding from people was her own doing. She wants to give back all the lives she's taken, Andrian Lazarey and who knows how many other people. The mere thought of what she was capable of. . . it sends shudders down her spine. She wants her mother back. Not the mother who was an enemy of the United States, she wants the mother who would sing her to sleep at night, comfort her fears, hold her when she was sad, and love her when she was lonely and all the times between. She wants the love of her life back. The one who was her everything.

Most of all, she wants her life back. Everything is so different, so new, so unconcerned with her. She wants her old life, she'd take it in a heart beat compared to this. Marshall and Carrie were having a child, her mom hasn't been heard from in a long time, so many new agents were around, Sloane had been allowed to live, even after all he'd done, Dixon had taken Kendall's place, Lauren had taken hers. . . Life was just something she didn't want to be troubled with anymore.

She can't believe in a hope for a better future anymore, not after everything that's happened. Not since her life could be said to be more wild then a roller coaster. _"The ups will outweigh the downs in the end,"_ she'd once heard. In the end, it's only the downs that ring clear in her mind. In the end, it's only the downs that will happen. And in the end, the ups cannot keep her from going down.

Setting down the Merlot, she gazes around the room, sadness clouding her eyes. Lightning cracked outside her window, but she didn't jump in surprise. A torrent of rain began to fall, overpowering the small shower that had started earlier. Closing her eyes, the rhythmic pounding of the rain beats in time to the pounding in her head. Tears threaten to fall as emotions flash in her chest. _I can't do this anymore,_ she thinks. _I don't want to do this anymore._ Grabbing her cell phone, she calls her father. Disappointment wells in her as his voice mail clicks on. "Daddy. . . Daddy I'm so sorry, I love you," she manages to rasp out, her voice thick with emotion. If it weren't for him, if it weren't for his strength, she wouldn't have held on so long.

Clicking the end button, she grabs her car keys and surveys her home. Thinking better of it, she drops the keys and heads out the door. Looking to the right, she can see a faint yellow glow coming from Weiss' house, the rain and the dark of the night blotting most of it out. A sense of obligation overcomes her and she walks to his door, the downpour already drenching her. Knocking on the door, she waits for him to answer, not knowing what it is she'll say. When he comes to the door, he looks a little surprised. 'Sydney, come in," He'd told her quickly. When she shook her head slowly and smiled sadly at him, a bad feeling came over him. "Is something wrong?" He asked, frowning.

"You could say that," she said as she drew in a deep breath. "Look, I just. . . I just wanted you to know that you've been a good friend." There's another hesitation in her. "I don't know if I can thank you enough for what you've done, I don't think I have the time either."

"What are you talking about, Syd?" He asked confusedly. "Come inside before you catch a cold." She puts her hand out to stop him and gazes steadily into his eyes.

"Tell him goodbye for me, will you?" She asked. Their eyes locked, and for a few moments time stood still. Then she turned and started to walk away, crossing her arms, her head down.

It'd taken him a few moments before he could comprehend what she meant, and as she walked slowly towards the beach, he started shouting her name, her figure completely lost in the cloak of the night. Thunder clapped above him as he debated what to do. Go after her or call someone? Precious seconds wasted away as he ran a few steps in her direction, then back to his house to find a phone. The whole time the rain continues to splatter noisily as if nothing was happening at all. "_Shit_," He muttered. He knew he couldn't catch her on foot, so he ran into the house, stumbling and knocking over furniture. Grabbing the phone, he punched in the numbers, fumbling over himself. "Come on, come on, pick up," He mumbled, waiting impatiently as the phone rang once. . . twice. . . three times. . . four. . . The fifth ring was cut by a cheerful, "Hello?"

"Lauren, it's Eric, I need to talk to Vaughn,_ now,_" He told her, rocking back and forth on his heels, his pulse racing.

"I'm sorry, he can't come to the phone right now, he's busy," She said with a smile in her voice. "Can you call back later?"

"_No dammit! Get Vaughn on the phone!"_ He roared, regretting it a little.

There was sound of shuffling and Vaughn answered. "Hey, Eric man, what's wrong? Did you get a fork stuck in the toaster again? I don't think you need to yell at Lauren for that," He said with a chuckle.

"Vaughn, Sydney's in trouble, I need you to go find her," Weiss told him hurriedly, ignoring Vaughn's jab.

"What? What's wrong? What do you mean in trouble? Where is she?" Vaughn asked, his heart beginning to beat faster.

"I don't know, she just came over and started saying things, she said to tell you goodbye. I don't know where she is, she was walking south from her house, I couldn't see, there's too much damn rain falling. You need to go find her, only you can find her," He rushed, wishing Vaughn would just start moving.

"What do you mean?! Why are you calling me? Have you called the police? Dammit Weiss, I can't find her if I don't know where she went!" Vaughn said, panicking.

Infuriated Weiss shot back, "No, see, I figured that if anyone would know where to find her, it'd be you. But suit yourself, if you don't want to find her, I will. At least someone will still care about her." He cut off Vaughn's next words with the dial tone and rushed out the door, the wind howling around his feet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jumping up from his spot on the table, Vaughn rushed to find his shoes. "Honey, where are you going? Surely Eric can't be _that_ much trouble with the microwave, now can he?" Putting her arms around his shoulders, she tries to pull him to her. "Come on, this is the first night off we've both had in ages, why don't you just stay home and relax?"

But Vaughn pushed her arms away, stuffing his feet in his newly found shoes. "I can't, Sydney's in trouble," he told her bluntly, fear rising in his stomach. Annoyed by Lauren's sigh of exasperation, he snaps at her. "Clearly, you don't understand how hard it's been on her, nor how much I've cared for her. She's as important to me as you are, I can't sit around, knowing her life's in danger. Whether you want me to or not, I'm going to find her, so just deal with it." Slamming the door behind him, he jumps into the car and starts racking his mind for places she would go. _The observatory? No. The train station? No... The pier? Of course!_ Immediately he swerves onto another road and heads for the pier, but no matter how much time he'd spent going through words in his head, no matter how much time he'd had to brace himself for the sight he was sure he'd see, nothing prepared him for the real thing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As she walked, enjoying the feel of the rain cutting into her skin, she wondered what it'd be like if she hadn't lost those two years. She wondered what life would be like if she and Vaughn had gone to Santa Barbara. She never would have guessed when she started with SD-6 just how screwed up her life would become. _What if I hadn't joined?_ It was a question that always haunted her. She wouldn't have met Vaughn. She wouldn't have met her mother. She wouldn't know who her father really was. She wouldn't know the kind of darkness the world really holds. She doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Mentally, she runs through speeches in her head, each one is different with the words, each one has a different voice dictating them, but they all have the same message. Her dad would say she's giving up too easily. Weiss would say she was too strong to give up. Dixon would say he'd be disappointed in her if she did give up. In the end, all the voices with their speeches had one point: That she shouldn't give up. Vaughn was the one who's voice she didn't hear though. Truth be told, she really didn't know what he'd say. Would he be disappointed like Dixon? Relieved? Neutral?

It doesn't matter though, all that matters it that soon, this will all be over. The wind blew harshly, almost threatening to pick her up and carry her off, but as her feet hit the wooden planks of the pier, something inside her calmed. There was no twisting in the stomach, no panic rising in her gut. Just a sense of comfort. Her clothes stuck to her skin like glue, the coldness of the world seeping in through them. Lightning continued to break through the sky, showing flashes of the place surrounding her. A glimpse of the railing; a flicker of a bench; the glint of a light pole.

_"We can't stay standing forever,"_ the words echoed through her head. It was true, she thought sadly, listening to the thumping of her feet, steadily making her way. Eventually we have to fall, don't we? Eventually, everything has to end. Some endings just come sooner the others, she decided. Sometimes it just gets so tiring, and so discouraging to go day after day. Does it making a difference if you try to escape once in a while? Does it matter, really, if you _do_ escape it? Surely it doesn't matter that much.

Suddenly her feet stop, and she stands in front of the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the waves crash angrily and feeling the rain nip her scalp. Putting her hands on the railing, she pulls herself upwards, one foot on the bottom rail, the other pushing upwards. The storm is becoming unbearable, much like the pain in her chest. The wind howls, bringing the sounds of someone's whispers to her mind, bringing to her momentary panic.

It turns out to only be the faint screeches of seagulls that circle above the angry ocean. A shuddering breath escapes her as the cold continues to bleed into her bones, the lump in her throat nearly choking her. Her shivering slows, as she realizes it's time to stop fighting the cold. It's over now. There's nothing left to battle against. Both feet on the bottom rail and words flash through her mind.

__

"I was so in love with you, it nearly killed me." His voice pierced the cloud that gathered in her wits. Another shudder. But not from the cold. Was. The past tense of the word cut through her like a blade through a cake. _Deep breaths,_ she reminds herself. Her right foot reaches up to rest on top of the second rail, her left foot following. More words flare, scenes blaze through her, creating a movie of jumbled pictures and words. One stands out.

_"Another day._" Everything would always happen another day. Never now. It's been too long putting off what needs to be taken care of. The other day had come. It was now. Another rail up. Another flurry of scenes, another flood of memories.

_"You might feel like you're alone in this, like you have no ally. I am your ally. Never question that."_ Oh the sweet bitterness of it all; If only he'd known what the future would bring, how his words that were meant to be a held promise would turn into a broken one. No one to turn to, no one to save her. No one to stand beside her. That wasn't his job anymore. He was to be there for Lauren, to save Lauren, to stand beside Lauren. _Lauren_. She can't really hate Lauren; It's not her fault she married Vaughn. It was just the simple fact of her being his wife that made her so undeniably hateful.

The continued numbing brought her from her thoughts. _No more looking back._ She tottered back and forth as the wind raged against her, the rain pelting her tear soaked face. Lightening crashed overhead, the thunder rumbled. Time seemed to slow. One more rail. One last step and it's over the final obstacle. Gripping the top rail, she reaches her leg over, then the other. Her hands are so cold, so frozen. Still holding onto the railing, she turns around so she is facing the enraged sea, leaning out over it. The waves hurtled into the wooden structure, each hit shaking the her down to the core.

Pinching her eyes shut, she feels something bubbling up in her stomach. Not fear, and yet, not confidence either. Nor is it the apprehension she gets before a fight. As the rain keeps pouring down, she takes a deep breath. One more second and she allows her fingers to continue slipping. First the pinky and the ring finger. Then slowly, her middle finger, and next her second, until all she's hanging on with are her thumbs, hooked around the pole. She feels ready to burst from all that's contained inside her. Nothing penetrates her senses as her thumbs being to fall, millimeter by millimeter. The only sound is of the steady beating of her heart and the rain. The only smell is that of the ocean. The only feeling is emptiness. A few more moments and she'll be gone forever.

She doesn't feel the hands grabbing her arms until she's being pulled over the top rail. Struggling fiercely, she tries to loose herself from his grasp. She doesn't even have to turn around to know it's him. The warmth that has spread through her from his touch is enough. Sobbing openly, she's able to elbow him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Falling from his arms to the ground, she throws her head down in despair. So close. She'd been so close. . . Clouds as dark as a raven's wings cover the sky as they continue to send rain. The thunder growls as mightily as ever. Lightning sends it's sparks in every direction.

She's still gasping for air from her short brawl with him. Still on the ground, but seeking the nearby bench for security, crawling backwards to lean against it and the rails. She doesn't want him here. It'd be so much easier without him here. It would have been over without him here. She's ready to throw up, and the harsh coughing is doing nothing to quell the feeling. He collapses next to her, hugging her to him. _Don't_, she wants to tell him._ Don't save me this time. Don't touch me. Don't break me more._ She wants so badly to crawl from his grasp, but she feels so safe, so warm.

"Syd, what are you doing?" He whispers softly into her ear. She shivers slightly, forgetting the rain that was assaulting her tired body. He hugged her tightly again, not letting her out of his arms. "What are you thinking?" He's more frightened then she is, rocking her back and forth, almost trying to reassure himself that she's still here. "Sydney." He repeated her name over and over again, trying to rouse some sort of answer from her. He doesn't expect the blows he'll receive.

"What business is it of yours what I do, Vaughn?" She asked icily, trying to free herself from his grasp. He doesn't let her go, but stares at her in wonder, surprised at her tone. "Who are you to ask what's going on in my mind anymore?" Her eyes blaze in anger as she seethes from his interference. "Who are you to come and rescue me anymore?"

He falls back, letting her go, like he's been punched in the gut. That does nothing to describe the flash of pain that radiates through him. "Sydney," he breathes, at a loss for words. "Don't, Vaughn," she barks at him. "Don't try and make it all okay. Don't try to be my hero anymore." His heart catches. He used to be her hero. She stands up, still shooting daggers at him with her eyes. He scrambles up after her, staring in disbelief.

"Sydney, I was just trying to help," He told her, desperately wanting to take her back in his arms, to shield her from every evil that may come. He's drenched from the storm, heart hammering wildly.

"You want to help me?" She spits. "Stay the hell away from me, Vaughn." All the years of hurting and heartache are boiling up to the surface.

"Syd, you don't mean that," He says, wounded. "You can't mean that after so long you're ready to close the door on me."

"I do mean it!" She screams. "You did after all, didn't you?! You gave up on _me_! That's something I would _never_ have done to you._ Never._ Do you think it's _easy_ for me to see you with her? Do you think I _enjoy_ being in the same room as you anymore? After all this time, you're _still_ only concerned about your feelings. You didn't come here to save me, you came here, to save yourself. You came here because if I'd actually died, _you_ would feel guilty. No, do NOT TALK TO ME WHILE I'M TALKING_," _ she roars at him when he opens his mouth to speak.

"Did you think that I'd just fall into your arms and thank you for saving me? Were you under some sort of illusion that by stopping me, everything would be all right? Let's get something straight, I will _never_ forgive you for betraying me like this. Do you have any idea, how much it hurts to see you two together? Can you understand," She rasps, "how much _agony_ it is to keep going anymore? This isn't just you, as I'm sure you'd like to think. This is about _everything._ Everything is so _hard,_ and I'm so _tired._ I'm so tired of it all.

"Everything is so different. Sloane is still alive," she mutters, shaking her head. "I can't believe . . . after all he's done.. people are allowing him to live. It's just.. and then Francie.. is dead. Will is in witness protection... Dixon is Assistant Director.. I think the only thing that's keeping me sane is my Dad. My mom. . . I still don't know what happened to her." Vaughn still stand there, unsure whether she means for him to hear this, unsure if he should hug her. He moves closer. "Don't," She whispers harshly, and he barely hears her over the pounding rain. "Don't come near me. Don't touch me, don't talk to me. Just. . . don't." _Come on Syd,_ she tells herself. _Calm, cool, collected. Compartmentalize._ Closing her eyes briefly, she composes herself. Looking back at Vaughn, she says softly, "You said goodbye to me once. It's time to learn to say it again."

He's suddenly hysterical. "No, I won't let you go," He growls, reaching out to grab her. "I won't loose you again."

She easily slaps his hand away. "The thing is Vaughn. . . you didn't have me this time." She turns, walking away. He stays standing, rooted to the spot, letting her fall out of his life for a second, and final time.


	2. So it Begins, again

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A/N: Wow! Thanks you guys! And to answer your question **Joey Bing**, I was thinking about her trying to find another way, but it just ended up with her not doing it. And I didn't want her to climb back over because Vaughn would've just stopped her again, right? I know it's a little weird, but I just didn't kill her off. Yet. ::devilish smile:: I'm not sure where this is going to go from here on out, and I'm warning you in advance, if I continue, it's going to be really *really* slow, so bear with me. Anyway, this was also sitting in my computer as an epilogue, I was planning on making it longer, but if you guys would like me to keep going I figured I might as well just change it altogether. Again, thanks so much! Your reviews mean a lot ^_^

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Four Little Words

_It's been months now. More than a year. I don't stop thinking about what I've done, I can't help thinking it was taking the easy way out. But when I think about it more, about my decision, I know I didn't have a choice. It was an impossible situation that I would have ended up loosing anyway. Knowing that doesn't stop me from feeling that unbearable agony of missing my friends and father. Nor does knowing that make it any worse. _

Do I wish I could go back? Of course I do. I wish I could go back through the passages of time, back to that night I was waiting for Vaughn. No, before that even. I wish I could go back to the time that Francie was going to be killed. There wouldn't have been a fight. There wouldn't have been two years gone. Though I know now that the removal of my memory was of my own accord. I also know that all of the Covenant's attempts have been futile in "bringing forth" Rambaldi in his second coming. Why? Because I was there to destroy them all. There are certain perks in finding my mother again. But that is for another day. I'm not certain why I write these. They're all burned in the end.

Sydney wadded the paper up and threw it furiously into the fire. The sun was blindingly absent for the moment, the birds and their annoying songs had ceased, both settling in for a long, lonely night. The only light present was that burning from the gyrating flames that occupied her fireplace, and the music that wafted to her ears was of a wailing violin, crawling up and down a scale, making the saddest music she'd heard in her entire thirty-two years on earth. Some Russian composer, obviously someone who knew how to write a decent piece of depressing music.

She'd thought that in the two years she'd been missing, things had changed dramatically. She almost doesn't believe how much of an extreme it's gotten to this time. Her hair was a few shades redder, though not without the brown, from staying hours in Austrian sunshine. Her skin was a shade darker. Just as last time though, she was in a house that would never be home, with friends she didn't have anymore, and possessions she'd acquired recently, and not kept since her adolescent years. The most relevant distinction perhaps, was that instead of having her father to lean on, she had her mother.

Having escaped the torturous life she'd begun so long ago, she'd found herself entranced by Austria's radiance. After weeks of flying from country to country, she was ready to plant her roots here, perhaps to grow in serenity and find ways to erase the past from her mind. And grow she did, blossoming and thriving like a flower in the beginning, changing and wilting as time went on, before shining brilliantly again. It was, once more, her season of dying. This very Sunday marked October 1st. Tears would fall, and she would remember. Go over every conversation, every emotion, every thing that ever went on between herself and Vaughn... And then she'd recover and continue.

It pained her to think of him, she missed him so much, it was nearly intolerable. But he'd chosen his path, and she'd been forced to take her own. She's glad he caught her, that he stopped her from going through with her life altering decision. Though it doesn't change the fact she's also so furious with him for doing so. After that night, when she'd walked away from him on the pier, she didn't know what to do. Or think. Or feel. She was still so numb. Vaughn had stopped her from committing suicide, and because of it she'd had some sense shaken into her. She wouldn't try it again that night. Not daring to go back to her house, she'd drifted, without thinking, back to her old home. It was no longer laying in it's ashes, as had been described to her by a picture, but was a blank patch of grass laying between two other homes. The rain was still coming down angrily as she made her way, almost in a trance, to the spot her front door had once occupied. Going through the motions mechanically, she twists the doorknob that isn't there, into the foyer that has long since disappeared. Time slips and she's no longer standing in the middle of chaos, but stepping back into her reality, where Francie is sitting on the couch after a long day at work, and Will is scrounging through the fridge.

She smiles at the nothing that surrounds her, and greets the people who have been gone for years. Dropping imaginary keys onto an invisible counter, she lets go of the handle of her suitcase, walking down the two steps into the living room. Flopping down onto her couch of grass, she sits Indian-style, leaning backwards slightly. _I am so burned,_ she says to empty space. _12 hours back and forth for a long meeting with a boring client._ Francie looks up. _Syd, I'm telling you, you need to quit that job. It's going to be the death of you._

Fran, I can't just quit. This is important to me. Anyways, I'm going to bed, I've got the day off tomorrow, and I am taking full advantage of it. Night Will, she says aloud as she gets off the couch and walks down the hall to her bedroom. But as she walks, the color fades in front of her, Will and Francie's voices die away, and the wonderful illusion she'd been under diminishes. She realizes she's standing exactly where her bed used to be. To the left, is where the double Francie had fallen. To the right, was where Sydney Bristow had made her final stand. She remembers the times before that last night. When she'd first moved in after loosing, no _killing_, her fiancé. Hearing Charlie propose to Francie. Playing those ridiculous card games with Charlie, Will, Jenny, and Francie. Taking off her engagement ring with Francie after learning what a pompous jackass Charlie was. Talking with her father on the front porch. Getting the call that Will was being held, and would be freed only if a ransom was to be paid. Covering all her bruises in the bathroom. The birthday party she'd planned with Will for Francie. Taking care of the bullet wound, courtesy of her mother. Vaughn picking her up. Making dinner for Vaughn, but not eating until the next afternoon. She falls to her knees, sobbing openly. And the rain continues to fall, as if nothing has happened at all. As if it is crying for her itself.

For hours the sobs would wrack her body, fading and then returning full force as memories hit her with the force of a dump truck. She doesn't remember getting up, she doesn't remember how she got her clothes or so-called valuables, everything was a blur after that. Her memory is only coherent a few days before finding her house in Salzburg.

Relaying her mind back to the present, her eyes begin to glaze over with tears. Her house- it could never be a _home_- is too big for her. It has two bedrooms, a master bedroom, two bathrooms, a large kitchen with no one but herself to eat it, a living and dining room with no one but herself to occupy. There weren't enough people to fill the rooms. Sitting on the couch, she realizes something. _I am so alone_. And she's still not sure if she's happy to be alive.


	3. Equivilance

Hey! Remember this? I know, I know, it's been forever, but with finals and everything that's been happening the past month I haven't really had the motivation or time to work on this. Thankfully school is out, I guess, but I'm going to be busy with work over the summer. Anyway, if anyone catches on to what I'm doing with one of the characters, I can tell you right now I had it in mind before I saw the finale I told you I'd take forever to update :P Thanks for the summary suggestion!

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equivalence

_It's cold_, Sydney thinks three days later as she rubs her arms, pulling her sweater tighter around her. _It wouldn't be if I was outside._ She wonders if it's always been this drafty here. Staring out the window she wishes for the millionth time she were outside. The dim sunlight warming her skin isn't enough, she wants to soak up the as much heat as possible. Her mind wanders as she watches a couple walk by, pushing a stroller. _I wonder-_

"Sydney!" A voice cuts through her thoughts, and she snaps back to attention. "I've had my employees killed because they weren't listening to me." Coming from anyone else, those words would have been threatening, but the tinge of affection belies their validity.

"Well then I guess I should be glad I'm not working for you," she replied, offering a faint smile for her mother. "I'm sorry, I was just.. out of it for a moment. I think it should be fine, Dad will make sure everything is in order. You should go." Her heart aches as the word _dad_ falls from her mouth; she misses him.

Irina regarded her daughter with a masked sympathy. While she's happy that she has found a closeness with Sydney again, she's not happy about the circumstances that brought them together. "Are you sure you don't want to come? He misses you very much. I'm sure he'd understand-" She breaks off as Sydney shakes her head. "Alright." There's a silence that comes between them. Sydney's staring out the window again. "Well I guess I should go." No reaction. Starting to walking out the door, Irina hesitates. Looking over her shoulder she sees Sydney watching her.

"How did he take it?" She whispers hoarsely. "Does he still think. . ." Sydney trails off, waiting for her mother's answer. This is the first time she's gotten up the nerve to ask Irina how he'd reacted.

Irina stands in the doorway, unsure how to answer her. "He does. And he's taken it well, considering his track record. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to leave. I'm sure you can find your way out." With that finality, Irina marched out to the car waiting for her.

Left alone in her mother's house, if she didn't include the guards posted in nearly every corner, Sydney contemplated what she should do next. Everything seemed to need careful planning nowadays. Every word, every movement. Otherwise she might become over exposed to those she knew. The feeling of sanctity that had surrounded her recently was not something she trusted, and she was working desperately to keep her guard up.

As safe as she feels though, she isn't happy. Her mother doesn't fill the void in her life, with every passing day it feels as if her solitude only grows. She misses her dad, she misses Weiss, she misses Marshall and Dixon. She misses Vaughn. With ever fiber of her being she misses them. But she can't return to that life, she knows that. They've moved on, she needs to also.

Thinking of her dad made her mind switch over to her mother's current activities. From what Irina had told her, she knew that Jack was looking for her; He was setting up another meeting with Irina, trying to get her to help him. Irina assured Sydney that she'd only give him false leads. He'd never know where she was until she wanted him to know. Sydney didn't know whether or not that was a good thing. For a moment she wonders if this is what he did last time she disappeared. Searching relentlessly for her, driven with an insane motivation.

Sighing, she stands up and looks around her. Her mother's house has become her new safe haven. Her own is too empty, she can hear her footsteps echoing in the halls. She feels too isolated there, even with the masses of furniture adorning the rooms. Eventually, she knows, she'll have to stop coming here so much. She shouldn't be so reliant on something that's bound to fall out of her life. _Let's face it, Mom isn't exactly the most dependable person in the world,_ Sydney thinks, smirking.

"It's a sure sign of insanity when you start laughing at nothing, you know," A voice cuts in from behind her. _Sark._ The hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she flinches inwardly with disgust.

"What do you want, Sark?" She asks tiredly, hoping to end this conversation before it gets too far.

"What, can't I simply want the company of a good friend?" He simpers.

"Don't flatter yourself. We're anything but friends. Besides, I didn't think anyone like you had friends," Sydney said in a wry tone.

"Oh I have friends, unlike you, and I'm not in the habit of _abandoning_ them either, also unlike you." Sydney bristled, wanting to give him a thrashing. "Jealous, Miss Bristow?"

"Jealous of what? I'm not in the habit of envying a little British _boys_." Sark raised his eyebrows.

"A boy perhaps, but a boy with someone to love and be loved by, nonetheless."

"Spare me. A blow up doll doesn't count as a girlfriend. If you'll excuse me, I have places to be," She retorts, pushing past him with a cold stare. As she steps outside his voice wafts to her ears. "She's very real, actually. She'll become more and more real to you as time passes." Frowning, she keeps walking, having no intention to dig herself into a deeper pit of regret from his biting remarks.

---------------

A door slams, jarring him back to reality. Looking up, for a moment he expects to see a head of brown bobbing towards him. Instead he sees the exact opposite. Blonde. His heart falls slightly. Before long, arms encircle his neck as he sat in front of the television, watching a King's game. "Hello, love. I missed you," her voice breathes.

He sits up stiffly and leans back into her. "Hey," he greets her softly. "How was your trip?" Lauren simply leans down to kiss him. They breathe heavily for a moment afterwards, staring into each other's eyes. "I left some dinner on the counter for you." But Lauren shakes her head.

"I don't want to eat Michael. I think we need to talk," she told him in a sickeningly sweet voice. Vaughn swallows hard, expecting these words. She sits down across from him, reaching across the table to grab the remote and turn off the TV. Raising his eyes to hers, he silently waits for Lauren to start.

"Are you going to tell me what we need to talk about? Or am I suppose to start guessing?" He snips, growing impatient as she sits and studies him.

"Don't take that tone with me, Michael," She warns, annoyed. "I think you know we need to talk. How was your day?" She asks simply.

Vaughn snorts. "You tell me we need to talk and then you ask me how my day is? I hardly think this constitutes as a serious talk."

"We haven't really talked to each other in a long time, and you know that," Lauren spits at him, tossing her head with an air of condescension.

"Well, as far as I can remember we were talking to each other this afternoon, and I think we've been talking to each for the past few years. That is, if my memory serves me right," he retorts. _Where is she going with this?_ He wonders, confused. _This is just going to cause another argument, and that's beginning to become too much of a trend lately._ He sighs.

"You know what I mean," she snaps. " Yes, we talked this afternoon, but that was about a damn mission! That's all we ever talk about anymore! Ever since that night you went out looking for Sydney you've become withdrawn from me, you don't talk to me, you don't tell me anything. It's as if we're complete strangers. This was starting to happen even before that. Ever since _she_ came back, you started closing me out of your life!"

"This has nothing to _do_ with Sydney!" He explodes. "Why do you keep bringing her up? Sydney is gone, she's not a part of our problems. You can't blame our troubles on something that's in the past!"

Lauren took in a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her anger before she did something she'd regret. "Damn it Michael, I'm trying to make this work. You're too attached to her for your own good, she's _gone_ for goodness sakes! You said it yourself! Why must you keep obsessing over it?"

"Sydney and I had a past-" He started.

"Yes, thank you, you've pointed that out _many_ times. But that fails to explain why you spend nearly every waking moment looking for her!" Lauren said, interjecting.

"-And you can't expect me to just let go of someone I love without a fight!" Lauren stared, wide eyed, at him. "Loved," he corrected himself hastily. "_Loved_."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stood up. "I think you have some feelings you need to work through," she spat, "and I think I'm going to spend some time at my parents' place."

"Lauren, let me explain," he pleaded, not wanting to end this on such a bad note. He stood up too, hoping to reach out and calm her. Hoping that by getting a handle on her, he could get a handle on his marriage. To stop them both from falling apart.

"No, don't bother. I'm going to make this very clear to you. You obviously still have some deep feelings left for Sydney, but I am your _wife_. It's either her, or it's me. Until you figure out who it is you want, I'll be in Virginia." She fumed, knowing she was walking on a thin line, but she suddenly didn't care. She would not be second to anyone, _especially_ Sydney Bristow. Her mission might be cut short because of her present actions, but she would not live a moment longer in someone else's shadow.

Vaughn frowned, incredulous at his wife's demand. "You're asking me to make a choice between the two of you? How is that fair?"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm _telling_ you to. Or else I'll make the decision for you. And if you really didn't feel anything for Sydney anymore, this wouldn't seem so unfair to you. If you _love_ me, as you claim to, than you would easily be able to pick me. Obviously, this isn't the case. So figure out who it is you want, and let me know." With that, Lauren stormed out the door to the car, leaving a whirlwind behind her.

Shocked, Vaughn stood rooted to the same spot for hours. He was afraid to take a step in one direction, in fear that it would be the wrong one. It was as simple as that. _Right foot, left foot. Lauren, Sydney._ Which was why he suddenly had the desire to cut off his feet.

---------------

Jack stood by the railing of the pier, watching the waves crash angrily against the shore. The very same waves that had kept Sydney company one night, so many months ago. When Sydney had called, he'd been in a meeting at the Ops center, conferring with Dixon and the NSA on a newly discovered Rambaldi manuscript. The manuscript held the promise of another frantic search and race to claim it before another agency did. This manuscript further foretold the destiny of The Chosen One. With all his power, Jack had been rebelling against deciphering the book, afraid of what it could hold in store for Sydney, should she still be alive.

But that was irrelevant now. The manuscript was now in their possession, being decoded as he waited. What mattered was finding Sydney. Finding her and bringing her back to fulfill his- His thoughts stopped as he caught a glimpse of a shadow behind him. Turning around, he faced Irina.

"You're losing you're touch, Irina," he smirked knowingly.

"Perhaps," she answered, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Or perhaps I wanted you to see me." She looked at him with concern. He seemed older somehow. Not just because he _was_ older. But there were times earlier when he seemed younger than his real age. Now a weight seemed to settle upon his shoulders, a bleak and sad look had entered his eyes, visible whenever his guard was down and the mask had slipped off. He shuffled more often, his strides less certain. Losing Sydney had done more to him than either Irina or Jack was willing to admit. "Are you alright?"

Jack nodded his head distractedly, gazing back out at the ocean for a moment. "Did you find anything?" He asked, getting down to the purpose of their meeting.

---------------

She never thought of herself as a selfish person. Sure, there were things she longed for, things she wished she could have, but she never complained about it. Never thought about why "the world was against her" or "why it had to happen to me". She always considered herself a fairly reasonable person. At least, until now. Sitting alone in her house once more, she can't help but think these things over and over again. One after the other these roll through her head. _Why?_ She can't answer it. Nor can her mother. Nor her father. No one seems to have the answers.

Maybe it did make her seem too self-absorbed. Maybe it made her seem a like a narcissist. But for once, in a long time, she simply didn't care. For too long the world had turned its back on Sydney. _That fact alone entitles me to a little time to spend on myself, doesn't it?_ _What about all the other things, too? Maybe it's time for me to focus on myself and not everything else. Or maybe I've been doing that too much already?_ In all honesty, in the past few minutes she's gone from feeling bad, to worse.

Sark's comments over the past few years have done nothing to quell the guilt that engulfs her. If anything, these comments, the double meanings, the seemingly innocent gestures only fuel her regret to a greater capacity. _Time can't heal all wounds if you pick at them._ And they can't. It's been so long, _Too long,_ she realizes, since she'd had any hint of normalcy in her life.

She had no friends. They had wasted all but wasted away in front of her, wilting like a flower during a midnight winter storm. Her enemies came in the hundreds. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a price on her head by now. Her mother.. is anything but ordinary. For her parents, though she loves them dearly, normal is hardly connotation to describe them with. _Though what is normalcy, except how we perceive it to be?_

Sitting here, on her bed, feeling a bit nostalgic, a frostiness seeps through her body. _It's cold_, she thinks. Inside, it seems, as well as out.


	4. Use Your Imagination

A/N: Hmm sorry it's taken so long. This chapter was actually going to be a lot longer, but I decided to just cut it off here since it was already past 3,000 words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it Oh, and sorry about grammatical or spelling mistakes. I'm too lazy to correct it :lol:

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imagine

Screeching out of the driveway, Lauren pulls out her phone, pushing familiar numbers with flying fingers. "We need to meet," she says the moment the line is picked up.

There was a small pause on the line. "Parking garage. You know which one." The line clicked and went dead. With a new purpose, she changed direction and put the night's events in the back of her mind. A new plan was began formulating in her mind that she could present to Sark and perhaps avoid her termination that would most certainly be ordered otherwise.

Her mind still ticking, she parked the car and waited for Sark. Moments later another car squeals into the garage, coming to a stop beside her. Both exited their car with haste, clashing together in a hasty kiss. "You called?" Sark asked, breathing heavily.

"I think my position has been compromised," she replied, backing off from him.

"Within the agency?"

"Yes, and they just decided to let me walk out of the building alive. No, you idiot, as Vaughn's wife," Lauren snapped.

Sark drew her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Well, as I recall, you didn't think very highly of that title to begin with. So that shouldn't be a problem." He leaned in to capture her lips again before she shoved him off her.

"Julian, we are going to talk about this. I could be finished if I lose my spot beside Michael." Lauren glared at him, silently wishing he would get a grip on himself. "Now, I came up with a plan, but I'll need your help. I have a contact within the agency, one who knows my workings with the Covenant. We've reached an agreement yesterday, and he has decided to help me in whatever manner he can when it concerns the Chosen One and the Passenger. Now he has only agreed to meet with me, and he won't talk to anyone else, so I'm hoping to use that as leverage with the Covenant."

Sark interrupted, perturbed that she was just now disclosing this to him. "And when were you planning on sharing this information with me? When, and how, did your dealings with him start?"

"I'm telling you now aren't I? That's what matters. Anyway, with him on our side we are almost certain to take Sydney into our custody, and we will be able to fulfill the prophecy. _All_ of the Rambaldi prophecies," Lauren corrected herself.

"All?" Sark questioned, lifting an eyebrow. "I thought there were only two."

Lauren huffed with impatience. "No, the CIA recently acquired another Rambaldi manuscript, further foretelling the fate of the Chosen One. I haven't had the chance to take a look at the decoded copy, but I'm sure that I will be able to, when the time comes."

"So there's three, then." When Lauren shook her head, Sark narrowed his eyes at her. "Well are you going to keep beating around the bush about it or do you care to tell me?"

"We can talk about it another time, but right now, it is _imperative_ that we make sure the Covenant doesn't destroy me. So, I want you to take my information to them and assure them, that without me, they will never get what they want."

"I'm not a messenger, love, I don't do errands," Sark snitted.

With a quick kick to his side, Lauren grabbed hold of his hand and flipped him over, bringing him back up with her arm around his neck, whipping a knife out of her pocket. "You'll do this errand or you can forget about ever having children."

Stiffly, Sark baited her. "I seem to recall being in the same position, only with Sydney. I must say I found it much more threatening coming from her mouth than yours."

Running the blade along his face now, she pondered just how to get him to shut up. "That's interesting you say so, considering right now you're the one who's only a few seconds away from being gutted." He began to squirm in defeat, and she let him go. "Now you will tell the Covenant presidents those details, and I will wait for you to call me so we can further discuss our next move."

Lauren sank into her car seat and revved the engine, almost daring Sark to jump in front. Speeding out of the garage, he watched her with a slight smirk.

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'No! No, no! You idiot!" Weiss shouted at the screen as the goalie let in the hockey puck, yet again. "What do you think you're getting paid for? Sitting in a cage waiting for someone to hit you with something? That's _my_ job, if you want that, go to where _I_ work," he muttered._ "_I could do a better job then you!" A knocking on his door brought him down to sanity.

"So much for a night alone," he mumbled, brushing the cheetoh crumbs off his shirt. Getting up, the knocking got louder and more annoying. Stumbling over to the door, he opened it, glancing behind his shoulder. "What are you going for the most infuriating interruption ever?" Weiss said good naturedly. Turning to walk back to the sofa, he invited Vaughn in, knowing it couldn't have been anyone else.

"Have a seat- I was just havin' a little down time with the Kings. Who are doing horribly, by the way. Like, tragic, I'm serious. All season man, _all_ season it's been like this." Flopping back down on the couch he finally looked back to his doorway, realizing that Vaughn hadn't said anything. "You gonna come in or did you just want me to slam the door in your face?" When Vaughn gave no reaction, Eric gave him a probing look. "You okay?"

"Eric," he began hesitantly, "I need your advice." Vaughn had been tentative about confiding in his normally so light-hearted friend, afraid that Weiss wouldn't take the issue seriously. After all of the wise cracks and jokes about the marriage problems he and Lauren were having, Vaughn was unsure how Eric would act. The need to talk to someone, however, won out over the fear of insincerity.

Weiss urged him inside, watching his friend with a concerned gaze. "So is this going to be another night where you gripe about having two women that love you? 'Cause if it is, buddy, I need to tell you, you're a lot better off than I am. Really- I just got turned down by Susan in ops. tech today. I mean, _Susan_." Vaughn opened his mouth to speak, but Weiss cut him off again. "Hey, just let me get another beer, I wanted to get wasted enough so I don't actually have to understand your complaining," he said playfully, trying to elicit some kind of good reaction from Vaughn.

"Lauren-" he began softly, trailing off at the end of the world.

"No, this is Eric. Say it with me- Er-ic. Not Lauren," Weiss quipped.

"No, Weiss. Lauren and I had another fight tonight." Vaughn stopped for a moment, pressing the bridge of his nose from the stress. Eric was silent, waiting for him to go on. "It was about Sydney."

"Isn't that what your fights have always been about? Hell, at least you have someone to come home to and argue with. I come home and argue with my TV," he joked. "Alright, well what happened?" He asked more seriously when Vaughn glared at him.

"Lauren is still upset over the fact that I'm still looking for Sydney. She said that we don't talk like we used to, that things have changed because of Sydney," Vaughn replied, staring intently at the now black TV screen.

"She's always upset when it comes to anything concerning both you and Sydney. It'll pass, don't worry so much," Eric said, trying to reassure his friend.

Vaughn was silent for a moment, looking down at his hands and fiddling with his wedding ring. "I'm not so sure," he said quietly. "Lauren told me to chose between her and Sydney. Then she stormed out of the house. She's going to stay at her parents' place for a while."

Weiss whistled in surprise. "That's a new one. Though I can't say that I disagree with her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vaughn asked angrily, his eyes flashing.

"Mike, you've been looking for months now. You haven't found even a small trace of evidence that Sydney is out there somewhere still. You've become obsessed, just like a few years ago when the Covenant took her. As much as I dislike Lauren, I see where she's coming from. You're searching for a ghost Mike. You can't put aside everything real in your life to find something that's not even in this world anymore."

"I'm so glad you're being so supportive of me Eric, I don't know what I'd do without your friendship," Vaughn snarled. "Sydney is alive I can _feel_ it, just like I did during those two years she was gone. I know she's out there Eric. I _know_ it."

Weiss threw up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm not saying I'm taking her side, I'm just trying to make you face reality. Mike, I'm not trying to upset you here. But the fact that your wife is making you chose between her and someone who is most likely dead has got to be an obvious sign the marriage is failing." Vaughn was silent, so he continued. "As much as I'd like to believe you, that Sydney is still alive, we have to face the possibility that she isn't. Hell, even Jack can't find a shred of an indication that she's alive. And you _know_ that if he found something last time, he would've found something this time."

Somewhat subdued, Vaughn sat in quiet, mulling things over in his brain. "Eric, I can't just give up on Sydney. I can't face the possibility that she's dead again. I just can't face that kind of reality again. I refuse to. I gave up on her the first time, I won't do it again."

"You didn't give up on her, you moved on. That's the only thing you could've done after losing her, you can't get mad at yourself for that. It's only human to want to heal," Weiss consoled.

"But I did give up on her. The day she came back to the CIA.. after you and I were talking.. you didn't see the betrayal and hurt that was in her eyes. You didn't see the pain that had cut her so deeply. But I did, and it was all because of me. I caused her more grief and heartache in her life. The very things that she doesn't need any more of." Vaughn paused, searching his mind for the right words.

"Eric, I know this is something you don't understand, but asking me to stop looking for Sydney is like denying my lungs of oxygen. Yes, I love my wife, but the love I have for Sydney is so much more. I love my wife like I love my mother or some other family member. I love them, but they're annoying from time to time, and I need my space apart from them. But with Sydney, it's different. I need her Weiss, I need her like nothing I've ever experienced. She's everything to me. I just realized that too late."

Weiss stared, looking bewildered by Vaughn's confession. "I think you have you answer, then."

Vaughn stared at his feet, thinking back to the first step he'd made after Lauren left. "It's not that simple. I still do love Lauren. I can't just throw her out the moment something better comes along. The thing is, I need Sydney. But I want Lauren. I feel like a normal life is so much more tangible with Lauren. But with Sydney.. I never know what could happen next. Almost every waking moment her life is in danger. I don't think I could live even a semi-normal life, knowing that."

"But you are now," Eric reminded him. "And you did before."

Vaughn continued on, seeming not to have heard him. "The funny thing is, that after my fight with her, I stood for an hour on end, picking this situation apart, wondering which step I should take. Would it be my right foot, or left foot? And that thinking was absolutely ludicrous, thinking my feet symbolized them. That whichever foot made the first move was the direction I was destined to go- to Lauren, or to Sydney." He laughed, a cynical edge to it.

A beat passed before Weiss said anything. "Which direction are you going?"

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Irina wavered a bit before answering Jack. "Yes and no," she replied evasively. "Did you research anymore on the information I left for you earlier?"

Jack scowled. "It was useless. If you're thinking to send me off on a wild goose chase so you can do this on your own . . . "

"I promise you I'm doing no such thing," Irina snapped, irritated. "Jack we agreed to combine our ambitions and resources to fulfill-"

"I know what we agreed, Irina, but just because of some pact made in a chance meeting does not mean I'm inclined to believe you'll live up to your promises," Jack retorted. At first, when they had met, it had seemed coincidental. At least, that was what he'd been thinking before. Now he was certain she had orchestrated it in order to gain any information he had regarding Sydney.

She huffed, annoyed with him and yet pleased he wasn't as gullible as he used to have been. "Yes, perhaps I am only using you," she murmured coyly, "and perhaps I only wait for the opportune moment to kill you once I'm done with you."

"You're assurances do nothing to alleviate my suspicions," Jack replied with a frostiness well known to Irina. "Now I have been patient with you. When you came to me, I was eager to create a partnership with you, if only for the long term goal, but I was and still am wary of you. I don't trust you, but I put aside those feelings. I asked you at the beginning, if we could put the plans into action, but you said it was not the time. Well the CIA got their hands on the manuscript, but again, you said it was not the time. Once the manuscript was decoded, I asked you once more, but again, it was not the time."

Looking out across the ocean, watching the waves crash onto each other, Irina waited patiently for his ranting to end. She didn't want lose this alliance- it was imperative to keep it in tact. In truth, she really need not listen to him, she knew every word that would tumble from his mouth, having anticipated this meeting for days.

"And so I ask you Irina, with the manuscript fully deciphered and now that finding Sydney is the utmost importance to every US intelligence agency, and most likely others- when will the time come?" He inquired, his tone bordering on a threatening level.

Turning to face him once more, Irina smiled. "That is precisely why I requested we meet today. The plans are being put into place as we speak. The time has come. When I return to Austria, I will fulfill my end of the accord and I'll contact you as soon as Phase One has passed. Then we will meet and discuss our next move. You know what you need to do. You've imagined the possibilities. Now you can start to see them."

Jack nodded, somewhat put to ease with this information. He turns to leave, before stopping himself to say, "Make sure you hold up your end, or I will not rest until your head and your body has been severed and you are no longer a threat to me or my objectives."

Irina grinned, not put off by his threat in the least. In one swift movement she took hold of his chin and kissed him, relishing his shock and the disconcerted look when she pulled back. "Sometimes there are things you just can't help," she remarked with a smirk before gliding off into the darkness.

As Jack stood, silenced by her act, he recalled what she had said months ago, before Sydney had returned, when they had started this collaboration. _Imagine the possibilities... Imagine what could happen Jack. Just imagine it._

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While it was a few hours away from midnight in Los Angeles, Sydney was being greeted by the dawn and the bleeping of her alarm in Salzburg. Slapping her hand on the snooze button, she burrowed back under the covers. Her morning run could wait for once- she'd only rest her eyes. After staying up so late last night reminiscing, she was more than physically tired.

Five minutes later her alarm was cutting into her cloud of sleep again. Groaning, Sydney propped herself up on her elbows, rubbing her eyes. Shutting off the noise for good, she flopped her head back down on the pillow in aggravated exhaustion. Willing herself to get out of bed, a moment later she pushes herself up again and sits on the edge of her bed. _I really need a pet_, she thinks as she looks around at her room. Darkness reaches every corner, the sun not having start it's climb through the sky.

Shuffling across the floor to her dresser, she pulls out a pair of sweats and a tank top. By the time she's changed and splashed some water on her face, she's much more awake and alert. Twisting her house key off the ring, she steps outside. Locking the door, she sets out on her daily morning run.

The path is welcoming and familiar, reassuring Sydney with the promise of another day. She runs the next half hour of her life into the past, greeting people she's seen every morning for the past year with a hint of a smile as she goes past.

She knows that any time she starts to forget why she relocated to Salzburg, all she has to do is step outside her house. The beauty that makes up the city is breathtaking, and looking into the distance she can feel herself falling in love with the city all over again. This is her safe haven. Safe from the world that had haunted her endlessly for nearly a decade.

Sydney's deep in thought when someone suddenly rams into her from the side, colliding with her and they both tumble to the ground. Irritated, she wants to snap at him for being so blind before realizing she wasn't paying much attention either. But before she's able even collect herself and stand up again the jogger grabs her hands and throws her off him, getting up and running off.

Clenching her fists, Sydney fumes silently, thankful that there isn't anyone else around to have witnessed this random incident. Pushing herself up with one hand, she brushes herself off and notices a paper slip from her hand. Puzzled, she picks the paper and reads it. Her eyes widen and she whips her head around to look in the direction the runner had gone in. _I should have known that was no accident,_ Sydney realized. The runner was gone.

Looking down at her hand, she read the words again. **_You're not as safe as you think you are. Find the people from your past and present and they will lead you to me. Your father's name will guard you by the stairwell_**.


End file.
